Waiting for the photo

I am still thinking about photography today.   I wrote a blog about old photos yesterday and this is a follow up to that blog.  I have mentioned any number of times how much I enjoy taking photos.  My Aunt Louise bought me my first camera when I was around nine.  I wrote about that in my very first blog here several years ago. I found the photo above of my exact camera on google.  I was surprised to find the exact one as "Imperial" is not exactly a well known brand.    I was thinking today about how photography has changed in the digital age.  There was an excitement and anticipation about taking photos pre digital.   You would have to go out and buy a roll of film.  I used to like to use Kodak 620 Verichrome Pan.   It would cost me almost a weeks allowance for the roll of film. Ansco film was a little less expensive so I used that often also.   620 Kodacolor was out of my range.   So like most people back then I shot my photos in black and white.

That little bright yellow, red and block box held a weekends worth of fun for me.  The film came wrapped in a metallic little bad to protect it.  You had to break the seal on the side of the film to open the roll and then place it in your camera.  Then you had to manually attached it to the spool inside your camera.  And finally you had to  wind the film into position until you saw the number one in the back of the little window in your camera.  It you didn't get it set right you might only get half a photo.  And who wanted to waste a photo when you only got twelve exposures to a roll of film.

It seems impossible now but a little roll of twelve exposure film would last a long time.  I remember a sixth grade field trip to Washington D.C. and I used one roll of film to document the day.  I came home with a photo of the White House, a photo of the Washington Monument and a photo taken from the top of the Washington Monument.  I had a photo of a friend taken inside the school bus.  There were no selfies, no special angles, or multiple shots of the same place.  But I did have a full days experience documented on a roll of twelve exposure film.  And the anticipation set in, waiting to see the developed photos.  I would take my roll of film down to Mrs. Waller at The Harford Stationery Store on Washington Street in my home town of Havre de Grace. She would then have it sent over to Pershing Studio a couple of blocks away for development.  It usually took four or five days to have the completed photos returned.  And Mrs. Waller looked at every photo that came into her store.  And she would let you know if she liked them or not.  There are no secrets in a small town.

A few years later when I was in junior high school Polaroid came out with something magical.  They created a Polaroid Land Camera that was affordable for everyone.  Their original camera was quite expensive and was not made for preteens.  But the Polaroid Swinger was made for my generation.  At least that's what their commercial said with swinging sixties music and young people taking photos a party.  I just had to have one.  It was the number one item at the top of my Christmas wish list.

Opening it up Christmas morning was so exciting.  I put that first roll in film in the camera and proceeded to take some of the worst photos of all time.  It was a terrible camera.  You had to pull the photo out of the side of the camera.  Then you had to wait 60 seconds, then peel open the photo.  Then you had to apply a special chemical to the photo to protect it.  And the photos really weren't worth protecting.   But I never noticed that fact.  It was just too exciting to be able to see your photo 60 seconds after taking it.  I wasted a lot of allowance money on Polaroid Swinger film.   My Aunt Louise who bought me my first camera also thought it was fantastic and bought one for herself.

Mad Magazine had a spot on satire of the Polaroid Land Camera rage.  It was the 60 second disappointment.   Of course today we can be disappointed or delighted with our photographs in a matter of a second.  It's almost instantaneous disappointed or delight.  You can delete, edit, flip, and share your photos in a moment.  Some of the excitement of waiting is gone.  And now instead of enjoying places I am are visiting or taking time to talk with people on my photo adventure I am too busy taking a couple of hundred photos a day.  I don't get to really appreciate a lot of places I visit until I get home and look at the photos on my big screen television. It's the digital age.   Time to end this blog.  I feel the need to take a selfie.

Artists and Models

 I have never really given a lot of thought about being a good photographer.  It is just something I do for fun.  I am not a professional by any stretch of the imagination.  I have never used quality equipment.  I have never studied photography in school.  However this morning I was taking some time to look through some of my old photos I have taken over the years and have decided that perhaps I should take my photography a little more seriously.

Photography has been a hobby of mine since childhood.  I got my first camera when I was nine years old.  My sister Shelley was my model when I took photos with that first camera.  I would take her out and pose her in bizarre places and take her photo.  I never thought much about it at the time but looking back now I realize that I did use some creative imagination in those old photos.  I remember taking this photo above by  putting Shelley down inside this old house foundation in our neighborhood and telling her to reach out like she was trying to crawl out of a pit.   Looking back now almost fifty years later I am impressed with the way this photo turned out.

This is a photo I took in 1963 of Shelley.  Something in my warped little head thought this would be a fun photo.  We had a little black puppy at the time whose name was Susie and she was behind Shelly in the photo.  But I didn't take the dogs photo.  I took one with the dog behind her making it look like Shelley was tied to the dog house.  Shelley never really questioned what I was doing or why I was doing it.  She was just always the willing model.  

Of course every photo was not creative or unusual.  Some were just photos of that I snapped on the moment like this one of Shelley with her doll carriage.  But still looking at it now I am finding it a much better photo than I had realized.   It does tell a story of sorts.  

This photo was taken of Shelley at Ocean City, Maryland.  It's not set up or posed.  But looking back it today I really like the way it turned out.  It's just a little girl on the beach looking down at her feet oblivious to everything around her.   And once again it does tend to tell a story of some sort.  

I am not sure who was more responsible for these photos me or Shelley.  I took the photos but she was the willing model.  Who is to say who the creative one really was?  

I still love to take photographs.  I always joke saying give me a 16 gig photo chip and somewhere on that chip you will find a good photo.  Perhaps I should have taken it all a little more seriously over the years.  Maybe I should have been a photographer.  But then it would have stopped being fun and become work.  

Chasing Elephants with Elsa Martinelli

I posted the photo above on my Facebook page while I was traveling in Bangkok, Thailand.  I received several comments with a quote from the song One Night In Bangkok.  Hey Larry, One night in Bangkok and the worlds your oyster.  I don't know if the world is my oyster or not.  But I do know that I love traveling and seeing the world from my own unique perspective.

Growing up travel was not a option for the average person.  Traveling to Paris was a once in a lifetime experience that people saved up for most of their lives.  The times were different.  Airline travel was a luxury for the wealthy.They wore their best clothes for the flight.  Gourmet food on real china was served to those fortunate enough to be able to afford to airfare

.  I remember watching the 1962 Walt Disney film "Bon Voyage" at the State Theater in Havre de Grace, Maryland.

Fred MacMurray took his wife Jane Wyman and their children to Paris.  The didn't use an airline of course.  That kind of tourist travel still was not frequent.  The took a large ship to Paris.  I remember Fred and Jane talking about this being a trip of a life time for them.  They had saved for years for this one time experience.  I watched the movie with great envy.  I wanted to be with Kevin Corcoran while he led his father on a wild chase through the sewers of Paris.  I wanted to dance with Michael Callan and Deborah Walley on the left bank.  I was Kevin Corcoran's age but I really wanted to hang out with his older brother Tommy Kirk as he explored the streets of Paris all alone without his parents.  But most of all I wanted to see this wonderful city they were visiting and share in all of their misadventures.

1962 was a big year for movies for me.  It is also the year that James Bond was introduced to the movie audiences.  Dr. No was released in 1962.  And as a ten year old I sat back and was once more transported to foreign destinations that were far removed from any place I thought I would ever get to visit.

Traveling became a reality for me through the movies.  James Bond took me to many exotic and fascinating locations.  I followed Peter Ustinov and Melina Mercuri to the Topkapi Palace in the movie Topkapi.

 I followed John Wayne to the plains of Africa in Hatari and watched the baby elephants chase Elsa Martinelli  through the camp ground.

Going to movies truly did make the world my oyster.  And I never had to leave my seat at the State Theater.  For $.25 I got to see the world and fantasize about traveling and having wonderful adventures.I traveled with Elvis and Gidget to Hawaii. Then I once more went with Gidget.  This time to visit Rome. The movies were my travelogue.

  I remember my mother watching Doris Day in That Touch of Mink.  Doris lived in New York City and shared an apartment with Audrey Meadows.  I remember my Mom talking about wanting to actually see New York someday.  New York is only a three hour bus ride from Maryland but in 1962 that seemed such a great distance to my mother and she never did get  to New York.

I look back now and realize how fortunate I have been to have my world opened to me not just through the movies any longer, but through personal travel.  I have taken Bond, Gidget, Elvis and even Elsa Martinelli and her elephants with me.    The memories of their adventures stay vivid with me when I visit the locations from their movies. And now I return home with my own memories and travel stories to enhance those I remember from the movies.  I wish my Mom had gotten to New York.  I think she would have been happy that I got chase the baby elephants like Elsa Martinelli.

Bangkok - Overwhelming The Senses

Elephant statues at an intersection near The Grand Palace in Bangkok

 I had never been anywhere in Asia before my trip to Thailand this past February.  I have done a lot of international travel and usually go to Europe and on a few occasions to South America.  So I had no frame of reference to prepare me for visiting Thailand.  I had guide books.  I followed an English tour guide in Thailand on Twitter before the trip.  And I kept up with the news about Thailand on the internet before the trip.  It was a tricky trip to plan.  After we purchased our airline tickets and reserved our hotels last year Bangkok erupted into a city under siege by political activists wanting to over throw the prime minister.  We read warnings about the unrest escalating, but I thought by mid February, some three months away, things would certainly calm down before our arrival.   But I kept reading more and more warnings about the danger of traveling to Thailand.  While watching and researching this I discovered @Richard Barrow on Twitter.  He is an ex patriot who lives in Thailand and works in the tourist industry.  He published daily updates about the violence and published maps telling what areas were safe and what areas to avoid each day.  The hotel we had booked turned out to be right in the middle of one of the most dangerous protest sights in the city.  So with his advice we changed our hotel to a safe area outside of the inner city.  Richard's advice each day was to not cancel your vacations.  Bangkok is a big city.  The protests are only in a small part of the city.  If you plan well and follow his advice you will never know there is any danger in the city.   I thought many times perhaps it would be best to just cancel the trip and forfeit the money we had spent for hotels and air fare.  But each day Richard reported the danger areas, told you where to avoid and where you would be safe.  His tweets convinced me to follow through with the trip.

Chatrium Riverside Hotel - Bangkok

Our original hotel was the Sky Hotel located on the Sky Train which is used to transport you all over the city of Bangkok.  This would have been an excellent hotel for people unfamiliar with the city and wanting to explore the streets of Thailand. But it was located right in the heart of the protest sights so at Richard's advice we changed hotels to one located on the Chao Phraya River. It was a beautiful choice.  They had free shuttle service on the water for places we wanted to see.  And if the violence in the city caused the roads to the airport to be closed we could have taken the river shuttle to the sky train and still gotten to the airport safely.  We were on the sixteenth floor of the hotel with a view of the river and also the skyline of Bangkok.  It was the perfect location and had there been no violence we would never have stayed here.

We walked down to the boat dock at our hotel each day and caught the shuttle boat down to the tourist boat dock for our daily adventure in Bangkok.  Then we returned each night to check in with the ex patriot on twitter to see what was happening in the areas we could not visit.  For every beautiful Buddhist temple visit we visited we read of hand grenades being tossed at police or shopping centers in the inner city areas.

The day we visited the beautiful Grand Palace we had to walk past the Department of Defense surrounded in barbed wire bringing back the reality of the danger in the city around us.  But for every barbed wire we saw there were overwhelming art and colorful Buddhist temples to fill our memories.  It was difficult at times to take it all in and also face the reality of what is going on in Thailand.  There is very little on the news here in the west about the problems in Thailand.  I was completely unprepared to deal with the beauty and also the ugliness of the situation in Bangkok.   I never had to witness the danger and the protest thanks to Richard Barrow and his updates.  But for everything beautiful  that I saw there is that memory of the updates and photos of the bombings and deaths I saw in the daily news updates.  I was far removed from the danger but I could sense the loss and sadness around me.

Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho in Bangkok

I will never get over the image of the gigantic reclining Buddha I saw at Wat Pho in old town Bangkok.  After walking through the temple and being overwhelmed by the beauty and the mystery of the images around me I had to take time to stop and let it all sink in.  At times there was too much to see and take in all in one day.  My mind could only accept so much before it all became a blur. This was not the Madonna and Child I was used to seeing in European churches.  This was something completely different and very foreign to me.  This was not the Basilica in Milan where I had to take off my hat before entering.   This was a Wat where I had to take off my shoes and wear long pants instead of shorts in reverence to the Buddhist who worship here.

Taking off my shoes before entering the Wat to see the Reclining Buddha

After returning from seeing the Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho I went to my hotel to check on the daily updates from the inner city of Bangkok.  There were three children killed by a hand grenade tossed towards a shopping center on the Sky Train.  It was all too much to take in.  I fell in love with the people in Bangkok.  I have never been treated better as a visitor anywhere.  The kindness and welcome arms of the people in Bangkok is beyond imagination.  Traveling expands our horizons.  I have always felt traveling makes me a better person.  But I have never had to share my travel experience with a people whose country was in revolution.  I was overwhelmed by the beauty and mystery of all that I did understand.  But I was also overwhelmed by the sadness I felt for these beautiful people facing an uncertain future for their country.

I returned to my safe hotel on the river front in Bangkok.  I went to dinner and spent time with other tourists who were enjoying their vacations.  There was an interesting band playing at our hotel in the restaurant on the bank of the river.  The lady singing had been a contestant on The Voice in Thailand.  I even was asked to get up and dance with her, which I did with much delight.  And I went back to my room that night with many memories of things that I had learned that day about a culture I knew nothing about previously.  I went back to my room with a camera chip filled with beautiful and fascinating photos.  I went back with a brain on overload being unable to take in and appreciate all I had seen.  And I went back to read about three children who lost their lives that day at a shopping center in the inner city.  

Bangkok will stay with me forever.  I would love to return someday and see the areas I had to avoid.  But for now I have to sit back and try to make some sense of it all and to reflect on what I learned in Bangkok.

To be continued......

Larry with a guard at the gate to Wat Pho in Bangkok

Mom Mom - Queen of Ritz and Peanut Butter

I have been thinking about my grandmother the past few days.   She passed away in February 1976. Perhaps that's why she is on my mind this February.  She and I always had a unique connection.  So perhaps she is close right now.

Grandmothers are always special.  There is that wonderful Norman Rockwell type image of sitting around your Grandmothers table surrounded by all the wonderful food she prepared.  Visiting grandmothers brings the scent of warm cookies just taken from the oven made just for you.  Grandmom would meet you at the door with an apron on and a little touch of flour on her cheek from baking.  It's a beautiful image but it was not my grandmother.  This was my mother's vision of her grandmother.  Her grandmother made baked apple dumplings for my Mom when Mom was a child.  I was told of the wonderful chicken pot pies she would make for suppers.  My mother's grandmother made her home with their family.  She did all the cooking.  As a result my grandmother never learned to cook.  She mopped, and swept, and cleaned her house daily.  It was spotless.   But she never cooked.

My grandmother volunteered to work at our churches Daily Vacation Bible School every year.  When I was very young she taught the pre school children's class.  And for some reason I always won the award for best workbook every year.  One year we had a very small class room area in the back of the church's chapel.  We had a small card table to work on and it only had three legs.  My grandmother's assistant was a lady who was considered to old to be able to take care of a class by herself.  She was a tiny little lady with a little bit of a palsy type shake.  Her name was Miss Maggie.  Her main job was to keep her knee under the table to balance the table where the fourth leg should have been located.  Of course every day her knee would move and our crayons would roll off the table and on to the floor.  But I was still able to retrieve my crayons and win the prize for neatest workbook.

A few years later it was decided my grandmother had reached the age when she was no longer thought to be capable to take care of a class also.  Instead of making her some ones assistant the youth leaders decided they would have her be responsible for making snacks.  I guess they had the Norman Rockwell imagine of the grandmother with the flour on her cheek making cookies.  My grandmother had no plans for making cookies or cupcakes for our snacks.  Her plan was to walk to Siebert's Grocery Store , which was next to our church, buy a box of Ritz crackers and smear the crackers with peanut butter.

I was shopping yesterday at my local grocery store and for some reason I had an urge to buy Ritz crackers and peanut butter.  I haven't bought Ritz crackers in years.  I came home and made some Ritz and peanut butter snacks.  And then it hit me.  I had been thinking about Mom Mom.  Then suddenly those snacks became the best tasting treat I have made in a long time.

Maybe tomorrow I will break out some crayons and roll them off the side of the table.

Above is an old family photo.  My grandmother is the lady on the right end of the table.  I am at her side as usual.  This appears to be a birthday party.   And I am positive my grandmother did not make any of the food.

Ghosts of Christmas Past

Let it be known I love Christmas.  I am like a big kid over the Christmas holidays.  Looking back on Christmas's past is something I do every year as I am decorating the house and putting up the Christmas trees.  Some of the memories are sweet and wonderful.  Others are sad and difficult.  But I cherish all of my Christmas memories and look forward to the new memories to be made each year.

The first Christmas I can remember was in 1955.  I was three years old.  It's one of my earliest childhood memories.  I don't remember a lot about that Christmas now almost sixty years later of course, but I do remember the present I received that year.  We lived in a little three room house on Otsego Street in Havre de Grace, Maryland.

The house still stands and is still occupied today.  I had my daughter take a photo of me by the house this year on my birthday.  I remember the dalmatian dog that was my first pet when we lived in this house.  I can remember the kitchen of the house and how it looked.  I don't remember much of anything else about the house.  But I do have my first Christmas memory.  I received a play set of pots and pans for Christmas.  I am not sure why my parents bought me pots and pans.  Maybe I played with my mother's pot and pans in the kitchen.  Maybe I asked for them.   I don't know.  But I do know my parents did not buy me any toy guns that year, or toy trucks, or plastic cowboys and Indians.  They had Santa bring me pots and pans.  I can remember the box they came in and how excited I was opening the box on Christmas morning.  Or was it really Christmas morning?  This first wonderful Christmas memory of mine was not the best Christmas for my parents.  My father's mother died from uterine cancer on Christmas Eve this same year.  So I am somewhat sure that if I did actually open up the box of pots and pans on Christmas morning my father was not there to see me open the gift.  Most likely they celebrated Christmas morning with me a few days after Christmas, or perhaps a few days before if they knew my grandmothers death was near.

I don't remember anything about my grandmother's death or funeral.  At the age of three I am sure my parent's protected me from seeing the sorrow and the grief they were going through.  But they must have made that Christmas special for me any way because I  still remember the gift and the joy I had opening it that Christmas morning.

One of my least favorite Christmas memories is the Christmas the year my ex wife and I were in the midst of divorcing.  We were still living in our house but we were not living together.  We lived in separate rooms and led separate lives.  But when you have small children you still have to put on a happy face especially on Christmas morning.  I remember not wanting to exchange gifts with my ex wife that year because it all would have been a lie.  I talked to my mother about it and how difficult it was trying to put on a show for Christmas.  She told me there were many years when she and my father had put on shows for Christmas for my sister and I even when their hearts were not in it.  She never went into specifics or shared any stories of individual bad Christmas's for them.  But she did ask me if I remembered any childhood Christmas's when we were not all happy.  And I did not.

To my knowledge my daughter never knew that would be our last Christmas together as a family.  I can remember watching them opening their gifts that year and laughing with them as they opened them.  And I can remember feeling like the worst parent in the world that year.  I remember holding back my tears and putting on a smile much the way my parents did that year my grandmother died on Christmas Eve.  But their smiles were worth the price.  They were happy that morning and have carried with them the memory of one last happy Christmas together with their parents.

We have had good and bad Christmas's since that Christmas.  Their mother and I have worked through our hurts and differences and are better friends now than when we were married.  They both have their own homes now and their own trees and are making their own memories each year.  And there is still something magical having them in my house on Christmas morning opening gifts, laughing and taking photos each year .   Christmas memories.  I would not trade one of them.

Everthing I need to know about Hawaii I learned from Elvis and Dennis the Menace

I am a child of the 1950's.   I was born in 1952.  There were only forty eight states in 1952.  I entered the first grade in September 1958 at the age of five.  I turned six three months later.   So in 1959 when I was in the second grade the addition of two new states was something exciting.  At the age of seven I became fascinated with our new fiftieth state.  I can remember going home from school all excited and asking my parents when we were going to be able to visit the new fiftieth state of Hawaii.  We  were a working class family.  My father was a heavy equipment operator and drove a tractor and trailer for the Department of Defense at Aberdeen Proving Ground.  We lived in a rented house in a small town in Maryland.  Hawaii was in a different world.  My sister was just born in 1959.  My father, who was taught by his mother to use a sewing machine, made my mother's maternity clothes for her.  Vacation meant driving down the street to Jeff Baldwin's boat dock and talking our little boat out to  the "flats" just off the city park in Havre de Grace, Maryland to go swimming on Saturday.  The closest I got to Hawaii was getting my parents to buy me the comic book Dennis In Hawaii - congratulation 50th State.

I must have read that comic over one hundred times.  Dennis and his family flew on Pan American Airlines to Hawaii.  Dennis yells to the taxi driver taking them to the airport "We're going to Honey Lulu".  This little boy wanted to go to Honey Lulu also.  Dennis got to go to "Wahoo".  He saw a heavy lady in a moo moo and asked his mother if moo moo was like in cow.   He went to Pearl Harbor, and even though he was too young to understand, he still got teary eyed at Pearl Harbor.  Dennis got to taste poi at a luau and thought it tasted like school paste.  Dennis even included a glossary of Hawaiian words for me to learn

Little did I realize at the young age of seven that fifty three years later I would finally get to visit Hawaii.  And I would not need Dennis' glossary of Hawaiian words because I would be spending my honeymoon on Honey Lulu with my husband who is a linguistics master.

Two years later, in 1961, the new state of Hawaii was still big news.  Hollywood was making movies about the new fiftieth state.  Surfing was becoming a new fascination.  Movies set on the beaches of Hawaii were very popular with the small town Saturday afternoon matinee kids.  And who else, but Elvis Presley, would capitalize on it it best. I still had my Dennis the Menace comic book, but now Elvis now brought Hawaii to life on the big screen.  I saw the movie Blue Hawaii at the State Theater in my little home town on a Saturday afternoon.  From the moment I saw the opening credits and the view of Diamond Head my fascination with Hawaii grew even stronger.

Now I just had to go to Hawaii.  Elvis was there.  He sang on the beach.  He surfed.  He rebelled against his parents.  He got married and sang the beautiful Hawaiian Wedding Song on a canal in Kauai.    I learned about luau's and what the words hooki lau meant.   What I did not learn from Dennis, I learned from Elvis.

Hawaii did not become a reality for me for many years.  My best friend from high school and I talked about going to Hawaii after we graduated.  I started to save some money for the trip.  World travel and tourism was still in it's infancy in 1971.  So the thought of going to o Hawaii was a real fantasy for us at the time.  In reality my best friend got married and I used my savings to go to college.  Hawaii remained in the world of Dennis the Menace comic books and Elvis Presley movies for me. 

I had two other opportunities to go to Hawaii over the years, but both times they did not happen.  One of the planned trips was going to allow me to stay at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel where Gidget and her family stayed when Gidget Goes Hawaiian.  But Hawaii was still a fantasy for me and continued beckoning me in the future.

Two years ago I started thinking about Hawaii again.  I had long lost my Dennis Goes to Hawaii comic book. With the technology of Ebay, I found an original copy of the comic book at a price much higher than the original twenty five cents.  But I wanted it.  When it arrived I was a kid again exploring Hawaii with Dennis and the Mitchell family.  The Elvis movie Blue Hawaii had been in my DVD collection for many years.  It still fascinated and inspired me, even with it's cheesy dialogue and plot.  I was getting older and knew I still wanted to see Hawaii but wanted to go before I was too old to enjoy it.  I wanted to go before I needed a cane or walker.  So sixty seem liked a good age to finally visit the island paradise.   

I was a little nervous about finally going to Hawaii.  I had such high expectations and was afraid I would be disappointed.  I love to travel, but I hate touristy places where nothing is authentic.  I love to meet locals, explore foreign cultures, and learn lots of history.  Hawaii was touristy.  Some places were not authentic.  But there was so much more to see and explore than I had expected.  When I returned home with over a thousand photos I was overwhelmed at what I had seen and learned.  When my daughter came to visit and to see my photos  I broke out the Dennis the Menace comic book and she was amazed that I had been able to recapture Dennis' trip.  I showed her where Dennis had visited and where I had visited.  Everything I had learned from Dennis was still there.  

Now as I am slowly labeling and organizing my photos I have been watching Elvis's Blue Hawaii on my big screen TV.  Along with my guide books, notes I wrote, and Dennis's guides, I also have Elvis's travelogue to be my companion in remembering the details of the vacation.  Elvis wore a blue Hawaiian shirt on the movie poster and sound track album cover to Blue Hawaii.  Can you guess what color shirt I bought in Hawaii to wear to the luau?

As Dennis and the Mitchell said: